Thinking to himself

Last year, i tried to blog continuously for a period of 30 days using the daily prompts. It was a mildly successful effort and i don’t see why i shouldn’t try it again this year. If i think about it realistically, i have enough time this year to achieve these little things i want to do. I fail when it comes to my willpower to shut Netflix off and go to bed early the previous night instead of watching, “OH, but  just ONE more episode” before i finally go to sleep  in the wee hours of the morning only to wake up a few minutes before noon. As a student who is on a break from school it seems like a great idea, to be in bed that late but as someone ambitious who has some dreams and goals to achieve in the next 24 weeks, it is a terrible, terrible idea.

So, like anyone else who has worked smart instead of hard, i am going to cheat because i am lazy enough to not want to make 14 different posts since i missed blogging the first 14 days of this year. I am going to attempt to use these 14 prompts in a single post

The words are:

Year  Interior  Gone  Crossing  Tempted  Float  Specific  Infinite  Shine  Uneven  Cling  Someday  Capable  Unseen

Here goes-

He was a very capable man,

Life to him was all about infinite possibilities

He yearned to shine at work,

He worked very hard.

But there  were times he felt physically drained & tired.

He was very well guarded about his feelings and beliefs.

There were times when all he wanted to do was cling onto something.

He was tempted to cry for help but he was too proud to do so.

His 30 something body felt like it was 50 because of his sedentary lifestyle.

When he was home at night,

He would love to lie down on his bed for specific amounts of time – motionless

Almost trying to make his soul float around the room or hover over his still body

He’d try not to think of the year gone by, it had been a tough one

He’d try not to let random thoughts crossing his mind distract him

Then he would get up and sit by the window

Grab his pack and light one up

In the middle of smoking his cigarette

His eyes would wander off to the mirror at the other end of the room

He’d look at himself and what a mess he is and try to fix his uneven hair

He’d then look  down at the pandemonium that ensued due to a traffic jam

In a city like Mumbai, where nothing ever stops, he hoped for a silent minute.

He looked at the mirror again, this time his gaze piercing through the reflection of his being

The demons of his psyche, the interior of his spirit, all came out to play at once

And not unlike the smoke of the cigarette in his hand

The toxicity of his true personality, couldn’t be unseen.

 

The Daily Prompt: Jan 14: Unseen (Jan 1- Jan 14)

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